


I’ll Show You Mine...

by gestalt1



Category: Cable and Deadpool
Genre: M/M, powerswap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-05-24
Updated: 2008-05-24
Packaged: 2017-10-12 03:15:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/120164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gestalt1/pseuds/gestalt1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adopted and cross bred plot bunnie(s) from [info]navisx , since I owe him a fic for sending me all that lovely Cable/Deadpool stuff.</p><p>"There's the Wade and Nate swap powers, during sex, and then have to have more sex to swap them back (justification for a pwp)</p><p>Or spin on the previous they don't swap powers Wade just started showing some Telekinesis he picked up from when he was a liquid mixed with Cable. With TK training montages (and subconscious TK Fondling!), everybody wins."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Contains sex, but not continuity. Continuity gives me a headache, so pretend this exists in some world where Nate and Wade are not, and/or never have been trying to kill each other, and Cable got his TK and telepathy back naturally rather than via the Cone of Silence/Dominus Objective. Actually for all I know, his might have happened sometime before the end, but if so, Wikipedia doesn't know about it... Oh, and there's plot too, not just porn. Because I'm just a sucker for plot.

It isn't exactly something either of them had planned. Not that Wade ever planned anything much, acting more on instinct and the promptings of his twisty-turny mind, but Nate is all about plans, and control, and being one step ahead of everyone else, which is why it's such a surprise to find himself backed up against a brick wall in an alley in Cairo (And why are they in Cairo? Don't ask) by a very horny merc, mask pushed half way up, warm lips on his, tongue forcing into his mouth with ruthless intensity. But this is Wade; so really, nothing should have been a surprise. After a few seconds Wade pulls back, obviously frowning under his mask.

"You know," he says, poking Nate in the chest, "usually when someone kisses you you're meant to actually do something."

Well it was a bit unexpected, Nate wants to say, but that would mean admitting he hadn't anticipated it, and that would just lead to Wade pausing in the whole kissing business to go on about it. Why give him an excuse to do that when his friend had just shown the sort of interest he had been wishing existed, but never really believed did...? But obviously he's been silent a bit too long, because Wade lets go of him and turns away, almost but not quite hiding a hurt expression beneath his pushed up mask and lips that quirk up into a slightly rueful smile.

"Seemed like a good idea at the time, but I guess not... Just blame it on a loose connection huh?"

"That's not..." Nate reaches out to put a hand on his shoulder but he shrugs it off angrily.

"Let's just go alright. No Brokeback Mountain here."

"Wade!" Nate grabs him again, holding on tighter this time, pulling him around and kissing him back. It's forceful, and this time there's the proper back and forth play of tongues and passion and testosterone and... mmm. Wade tastes good, a little like the after-taste of alcohol, but mostly just like Wade. He is close enough to feel his solid, muscular form pressing up against his own, lithe and very, very flexible, as he knew from sparring. Yeah, that gives him some very nice mental images.

"Would it ... have ... killed ya," Wade says between kisses, forcing him back against the warm, sun-baked brick wall, "to ... do this... before?"

Nate grins against the merc's mouth, pulling him in even closer with his right hand, reaching down with his left to stroke Wade's obviously hard cock through the tented spandex. He doesn't need to read his strange, slippery mind to guess he has a thing for his techno-organics. Wade groans, and mutters something that sounds suspiciously like, "Smug bastard."

"Well isn't that one of the things you love about me?" he whispers into Wade' ear, licking along his jawline and smiling – yes, alright, smugly. Wade's skin tastes... interesting; salty sweat, a slight dirty tang, and something else indefinable underneath it all. The texture is odd too, ridged with scar tissue, but appealing for all that.

"Are you just gonna keep licking me all afternoon or are we actually going somewhere with this?" Wade's amused voice breaks his reverie. Nate chuckles, moving down to bite lightly on his neck, letting his low, rough laughter transmit itself through his teeth. Wade shivers in pleasure. "Oh that's nice...yeah..."

"We could always bodyslide back to Providence..." Nate suggests, working his metal hand under Wade's spandex pants and inside his boxers. Apparently by the hitch in his breath Wade really likes the ridged texture of his techno-organic fingers.

"Alley is... fine by me." Wade bucks his hips into Nate's touch, swearing under his breath. "Unnh... want you to... fuck me. Here. Now."

"We don't have any lube," Nate replies regretfully, still stroking his fingers teasingly slowly along Wade's length.

"I don't care," Wade growls, "and I don't need it. Healing factor remember."

"I don't want to hurt you."

"You're not going to fucking hurt me! Don't be a wuss." Wade has already pushed his hand away long enough to undo his belt and toss it aside, pulling his pants and boxers down enough to bare that tight muscular ass that Nate has spent so much time admiring. Kissing Nate again, Wade spins them both round so his back is pressing against the wall, fumbling with the belt and pants of Nate's costume, freeing his own achingly hard cock. Then, supporting himself with his hands on Nate's shoulders he raises himself up in one smooth move, wrapping his legs around Nate's waist, and thrusting himself down onto Nate's solid length. Nate gasps, feeling tight heat around him, dropping his hands to Wade's ass to help keep him up.

"Ah, shit that's good," Wade sighs, pulling himself up and starting to slowly fuck himself on Nate's cock. He can feel Wade's muscles tense and shifting either side of him, reminding him just how strong Wade is, and blood is starting to slick Wade's ass up. It might be disturbing if he was really thinking about it, but his mind is far more taken up with how damn good Wade feels. He thrusts up, grinding the mercenary back against the rough brick of the wall, sinking balls deep, and he must have hit that spot inside Wade because he arches his back in pleasure and moans, deep, throaty and very sexy. Wade lifts up again, and they quickly get into rhythm. Nate leans into the movement, feeling the merc's taut chest muscles under his own, shifting as Wade rolls his hips, forcing himself down even further onto Nate's cock. Wade's breath is coming in short, broken gasps, hot against Nate's cheek, his head thrown back against the wall. Nate's loosing what little control he still has, fucking Wade harder and faster, pounding him into the brick, mouthing endearments into his ear, his hands spreading Wade's ass wider, gripping warm solid muscle made slippery by slick blood. Wade's whimpering and his fingers tighten on Nate's shoulders, and the sound goes straight to his cock. Fuck. Nate closes his eyes as he buries himself inside Wade, coming hard enough to make him see stars. Wade comes seconds after, his hard dick spurting onto Nate's stomach. He comes down off the high with his muscles shuddering with the effort of holding the other man up, his breath ragged.

"We really should have done this a long time ago," Wade pants, the ghost of a chuckle in his voice.

"Yeah," Nate agrees, not able to say much else. The air around them is shimmering; the heat and the after-effects of pleasure he thinks. He could stay here all day if it wasn't for the fact that this is an alleyway in Cairo, and anyway Wade is heavy. He eases out and lets Wade unwrap his legs from around his waist. The mercenary lowers himself to the ground with the agility of a gymnast, apparently unaffected by all the work his muscles have been doing.

"Now we bodyslide back to Providence," Wade says with a happy grin, pulling his pants up. "I'm thinking shower sex?"

Nate thinks this is going to be a very long and very enjoyable evening.

\----------

Wade wakes up with the mother of all headaches. Possibly his worst headache ever, and he should know, 'cos he's had a few.

"Owwie." He sits up, which doesn't make the headache any worse, but does reveal the fact that apparently he's decided to stay the night at Providence, as opposed to going back to his apartment and staying up 'til one in the morning watching crap TV. Although he did stay up until one here as well. Just without the TV. And with more sex. Lots more sex. Alcohol had also been involved somewhere, so maybe that explained the headache. It doesn't feel like a hangover though, and anyway, he doesn't really get hangovers. Well, unless he drinks, like, a shitload, and it hadn't been that much.

Nate is asleep on the couch. That's kind of a pity, since he had sort of been hoping to find him curled up with him, not that he'll admit wanting to do something as girly as snuggle. He guesses maybe he'd been a bit drunk after all, which might explain it. Aww, he'd given up his bed for him. Not like there aren't a hundred other beds Nate can choose from in this place, though most of them have refugees/immigrants/whatever the hell they were calling them these days in them. He's snoring, so Wade throws a pillow at him.

"Wakey wakey Priscilla. If the readers wanted to see you sleeping they'd just go look at picture of you with your eyes closed for half an hour. At least it'd be quieter."

Nate opens one eye to glare at him. Unfortunately it's his T.O. eye, so the glare thing doesn't quite work.

"Go make me coffee!" Wade throws the other pillow at him. It bounces off his head, further messing up his already ruffled hair.

"Shut up Wade."

"I thought you like my Demee Moore-like voice?" He thinks about throwing something else, but there isn't much else to throw in the bed.

"Normally, yes, but not when I've got a headache."

"You too huh?" Wade gets up, determined that if he isn't about to get prissy Priscilla Summers to make some coffee for him, he'll just have to get it himself. Nate puts his arm over his face, clearly not listening. Is there something else around here to throw at Super-Jesus? Well, obviously not so super this morning, what with the headache and all. Was it the sex? Does really good sex give you a headache? Surely only if you accidentally bang your head against something hard while doing it, and he doesn't remember that happening. Perhaps he has concussion. How did you check for that again? But didn't you die if you went to sleep with concussion? Cos he'd been asleep, and he doesn't feel dead. Healing factor perhaps? Ooh, one of his boots. He throws it at Nate. Nate makes a protesting noise.

"Stop it." He makes a sort of fending-off motion at the air.

"Why don't you just TK 'em away?" Wade asks, looking for his other boot. Or possibly one of Nate's boots. Or something else hard.

"The next time I will."

"Suuuuure." Wade finds the second boot, along with the rest of his Deadpool costume, and his narcissistic Deadpool boxers. He puts those on, and retrieves the weapons harness rig out from under a pile of spandex. Heavy, hard things, oh yes indeed. He pulls out a small pistol. "Hey Nate!"

"What?"

"Think fast!" He chucks the gun hard, watching it fly end over end to hit Nate squarely between the eyes.

"Ow!" Nate glares at him some more, sitting up properly. "A gun? And you call me immature."

"It's not my fault if your reflexes aren't up to much," Wade smirks.

Nate frowns. "I should have caught it. It was as if I reached out for my telekinesis and it wasn't there..."

"Want to try again?" Wade asks, grabbing the boot and aiming it.

"You just want an excuse to throw things at me."

"Well duh. Come on, I'll even toss it slowly. Even you can't be that hopeless."

"Alright." Nate is still frowning. Super Jesus, worried? Nah.

Wade hefts the boot for a second then throws it. Okay, not terribly softly or slowly, but slower, and that counted right? It bounces of Nate's chest. "Okay, it's official," Wade says, "you really are that hopeless."

"There's nothing there!" Nate tells him, sounding almost... panicky. Which was almost enough to get Wade anxious too, because Nate just didn't do that.

"So... what, you just wake up and suddenly you're lobotomised again?"

"I... really don't know."

Wade thinks about it for a moment. "Well maybe you just need to be a bit more motivated," he says, slipping another weapon out of its sheath on his costume.

"In what way... oh." His eyes widen, but it's far too late to move out of the way. The thin knife catches him in the chest, sinking in up to the hilt. "Again, ow."

Wade cocks his head to one side. "There's a surprising amount of not falling over dead going on here."

"Yeah." Nate wraps his fingers around the weapon and pulls it out with a nasty 'schlurp' sound. The oozing puncture wound begins to close up behind it. "That's not... normal."

Wade stares at him for a second, then waves his finger at him. "He-ey! You've stolen my healing factor haven't you! Is this another one of your 'it seemed like a good idea at the time' plans? 'Cos if so, then you have some fixin' to do."

"This is nothing to do with me," Nate replies, looking even less happy than before, if that's possible. "But... I think you might have something there. If I've got your healing factor, then maybe you've got my powers."

"Yeah, well, I hate to disappoint you, but I'm not hearing anything. No voices, nada. No neato moving things around with my mind either."

"Well your shifting cellular structure always did make your mind difficult to get a hold on," Nate tells him, rubbing his forehead. "The same might be true of me now. And have you even tried using telekinesis?"

"Nope." But Wade is still pretty sceptical about it. He doesn't feel any different, apart from the headache. Still the same screwy sense of humour, rambling internal monologue... "Anyway, what about all the other people on your little island? You're always going on about how you're such a powerful telepath, so how come I'm not hearing them?"

"My rooms are shielded." He drops his arm again, though unable to stop his hand lingering on the spot where the knife had hit him. It is unmarked. "But if you step outside..."

"That's easy enough to test," Wade replies, stepping over his abandoned costume towards the door. He is unconscious the moment he turns the handle.


	2. Chapter 2

Nate finally wakes Wade up by emptying a glass of water over his head. The merc sits up spluttering, glaring at him. “What was that for?!”

Nate ignores him, reaching down to pull Wade to his feet. “I think this pretty much confirms it,” he says unhappily. “We’ve swapped powers. And that’s not good news for either of us.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Wade replies, drying himself off with Nate’s bunched up T shirt grabbed from the floor. “If you teach me how to use it, TK would be a pretty cool power. Give me an excuse to go steal Marvel Girl’s costume again. Maaaan, I loved those panties.”

Nate does his best to ignore the incredibly disturbing image. After all Marvel Girl is sort of his mother, and that’s not a picture he wants in his head. “Wade, think about it for a second. If I’ve got your healing factor, what’s fighting your cancer.”

Wade drops the shirt. “Oh shit.”

“Yeah.” Now if only Nate knew how this had happened... Even taking into account technology from the future, he’s never heard of something like this. And it seems a little... haphazard... to be something one of his enemies might have thought up. Not that Wade doesn’t have plenty of enemies too, but they’re more the kind of people who would take revenge with a bullet or blade. This feels like magic.

“So... we’re in deep shit then...” Wade says. “And what about your arm? Didn’t you say part of what kept the virus from taking over was your TK? I mean, it might not be the same with that little baby alien, but the author did say she was ignoring continuity, so...” A thought seems to occur to him. “Hey, maybe you’ll turn into that machine-you I met in that other dimension! That’s be pretty cool – I was totally digging those tentacles. And it would make for some interesting sex...” Wade gives him the sort of look that can only be described as really disturbing, although, Nate thinks, there is something oddly beguiling about the idea... He shakes that from his thoughts quickly. There’ll be time to entertain their kinks later, but right now, they need to work out what’s happened to them. Wade has a point; one he’d been trying not to think about. There’s no way of telling how this will have affected his techno-organics, and although he’s sure he could fight the alien’s mind off again – it’s only his powers that have gone, not his ability to deal with psychic pain – he would rather not try when there’s not that much time to fix this.

“We need to work out what caused this,” he tells the merc, finding his clothes from the night before and starting to dress. “And that means we’re going to have to leave the room sooner or later.”

“Yeah, alright, but how? As I’m constantly reminded by this persistent damp feeling from you _chucking water on me_ , I don’t exactly deal well with your stupid telepathy.”

Nate sighs. “If we can get to another telepath maybe they can help you shield your thoughts... erect a mental barrier...” He pauses, seeing Wade’s grin. “What?”

“You said erect.”

Nate rolls his eyes. “Comments like that prove that you’re far more immature than I am.”

Wade’s grin gets bigger. “Whatever. It’s still funny.” His eyes widen as a thought occurs to him. “Emma Frost! I hardly got to see that hot chick when I was working for the X-men. Not that you’re not hot too Nate, but she’s got great...”

“I’m sure there are _other_ telepaths out there that would be willing to help us,” Nate interrupts, trying not to sound amused. “I’m not sure whether my father has forgiven me yet for my last plan.”

“You mean your big Jesus-martyr-suicide thing.” Wade nods. “Guess not. And I might have kind of betrayed them a little bit too when I sided with you. But how many other good telepaths do we know?”

“Not that many. And we need to find someone who knows about magic.”

“You think magic is what’s causing this trippy little setup? I just thought it was a plot device?”

Nate chooses to ignore this last comment. “If we’re going, you need to get dressed.”

“So we _are_ going to see Emma Frost?” Wade asks hopefully, picking up his Deadpool spandex. He pulls it on quickly. Nate can’t help admiring its close fit along the hard planes of his muscles, appreciating it all the more for having seen his body naked.

“Yes, alright. At least we can trust the X-men. After all, I haven’t appeared to be planning on world conquest lately.”

Wade shrugs. “Ahhhh, but I enjoyed those old world conquest days.” Another grin as he pulls the mask down over his face. “What is your latest plot by the way?”

“I can’t say.” Nate hands him the harness rig from where it’s draped over a chair. “You could always stay here you know. Just until we figure out what’s going on...”

“What, and miss my chance to take another look at the famous Emma Frost and her massive ti-“

Nate coughs. “Okay. I don’t know how long it’ll take for her to set up a mental barrier to protect your mind, but we can bodyslide back here any time.”

Wade waves a gun at him negligently before slipping it into its holster. “It’ll be fine Prissy.”

\-----

Of course, it’s not fine. Really not. The moment they arrive Wade’s head is splitting, but he’s expecting it this time, is ready for it, sorta. Still, being ready doesn’t help much. His mind is being attacked by voices, stray thoughts flittering about like butterflies on LSD; pictures, words, whole scenes, like the kaleidoscope of his own twisting mind before Nate went and messed around with it, but multiplied by ten, no, a hundred. Also like some of that really weird TV from the Seventies. But then they had the excuse of actually _being_ on drugs.

Ah, fuck it hurts. He doubles over in pain, would probably have collapsed if not for Nate’s arm supporting him. Mmn, nice TO texture. He tries to concentrate on it, but even that’s not easy. Nate’s talking, that strangely attractive know-it-all tone of voice he gets sometimes... Someone else answers, but he can’t really think about sight right now, just the white-out pain in his head, and all those goddamn voices!

He vaguely hears the voice – Cyclops? – asking what’s wrong, but now... hey, that’s kind of cool, he thinks, because he can feel inside his head – far stronger than the actual voice which is just like a whisper in amongst all the other shit – the sensation of anger, perhaps mixed with a little fear, and a lot of trepidation, and since when has he even known long words like that...? Damn telepathy, he thinks, sticking other people’s thoughts in his head. Now how does he get it to work the other way around? Broadcasting some heavy psychic pain into One-Eye’s head sounds like a great idea right about now.

Nate says something, and they’re moving. Well, in Wade’s case it’s more like stumbling, but whatever. Good ol’ Nate must have convinced Summers and whoever else is there – feels like three people? That’s not including Nate, who is big and blocky and somehow like thinking at a black hole, and he’s just not used to seeing in all these mental directions, like being ripped apart at the seams, but hell, he’s felt like that before sometimes and kept functioning; he isn’t going to let G. I. Jesus’ telepathy get the better of him.

The flickering thoughts are getting worse... _What the hell is he doing here – new downloads for Halo 3, fuckin’ **ace** man - why does Cable have to bring **him** here – ‘I’m Fucking Ben Affleck’ has got to be on YouTube – why are they even friends? – can’t believe he wore that outfit last night – Cable’s actually kind of hot – does Scott really believe that bullshit story, swapping powers my arse..._ Just too many voices! Wade might be the master of inane chatter, but it’s a lot less fun when he can’t shut it up! And anyway, who the hell was that thinking about Nate, Nate belongs to _him_ now...

 _Really_. A cold, calm voice.

Wade raises his head weakly, blinking to try and get the increasingly blurry world to focus. “Yo... Emma Frost.”

The unfocused figure – damn, can’t really see her finer features –looks down at him, hands on hips. She’s still pretty fit, even if she is a bit fuzzy. “I’m not going to ask about _that_ thought.”

“Good,” Wade manages. “Cos... don’t ask... don’t tell... right.” That little slogan always makes him think what Mr. Nate Jesus Patton would look like in uniform, which would be a really great thought worthy of future contemplation if his head didn’t feel like someone had taken a pot shot at it and not missed.

Elegant fingers touch his temples through the mask, and he feels the contact of another mind on his. It’s actually kinda creepy, especially because Emma is _cold_ , but then, she’s like her name right? A mental shiver. Chilly. _You’re really messed up in here_ , her voice says, a hint of schadenfreude tinting the edges. _I’m surprised you’re even conscious._ Yeah, chilly like ice-cream. Mmmm, Ben and Jerry’s.

 _Yeah, well so am I_ , he says.

Wade isn’t sure exactly what Emma’s doing, but it helps. It’s like building mental walls out of ice and sheer control and how does Nate _cope_? Yeah, it sucks to be Nate, and that’s not something he ever thought he’d say. It’s done eventually, and snow-cold Emma Frost slips out of his mind, leaving him shivering and wanting to attach himself to a radiator with superglue and duct tape. It’s a hell of a lot better than before though.

“Nice,” he says, “I wouldn’t normally say thanks, but... _thanks_.” He’s aware of Nate standing close by him and, blinking, his eyes focus on the other people in the room. Cyclops, of course, smart-ass though he is, and Beast and Wolverine. All the old crew then. Well, Wolvie makes sense; a good idea to have someone _else_ with a healing factor in case a certain mercenary turned out to be unfriendly. As if he would. Well actually, of course he would, but still... Anyway it’s not as if he would risk it now that he’s minus one healing factor. He can still feel them in his head, sort of, but now it’s without the pressure of their thoughts, and the thoughts of everyone else in the area. Man, people are noisy inside their heads.

“So...?” Cyclops asks Emma. Wade can see her nice and clearly now, and mmmmmmmm, she’s lookin’ good. No offense Nate, but it’s gotta be said.

She nods. “They’re telling the truth. It appears that somehow, Cable and Deadpool have traded abilities.”

“An’ now we’ve sorted your buddy’s head out, maybe you’re gonna tell us what the hell you think we can do about it,” Wolverine growls, his arm folded across his chest, reeking of aggression. I’m not scared of you, Wade thinks mulishly, glaring at him. So no healing factor, but he could still take him. Maybe throw him across the room with his mind if he ever works out how to use the TK thing.

Nate’s left hand is resting on Wade’s shoulder, the heavy metal presence somehow comforting. “I need to know who I should talk to about magic,” he says.

“You think that’s what caused this?” Beast asks, professional curiosity obviously aroused. _Hah, you said aroused,_ Wade tells his thoughts, happy to know that his brain is still as immature as ever, despite lacking that shifting cellular structure. Man, but that’s a mouthful. Perhaps he could shorten it... SCS maybe?

“We were in Cairo yesterday,” Nate tells them, T.O. hand shifting surreptitiously to almost massage Wade’s neck. Wade wonders if his healing factor is starting to mess with Nate’s brain, because since when did Nate do that... “I wouldn’t be surprised if that had something to do with it. Yesterday morning, fine, today...”

Scott’s brow furrows. “Why Cairo?”

“Don’t ask,” Wade and Nate say together.

“What about Wiccan, of the Young Avengers?” Beast suggests. “I know he’s just a youngster, but right now there aren’t any other magic users available who would be willing to help you.”

“Sounds good to me,” Wade replies, feeling pretty chirpy now his mind is clear. “You know Fixer’s got naked Avengers painted on the side of his pool?” Oh, those naked Avengers. He’s still meaning to phone and ask who did them so he can persuade Nate to get some for Providence. There must be a swimming pool somewhere on the island.

Nate nods, perfectly deadpan. “Yes Wade. You have mentioned that before.”

Wade shrugs. “Whatever Priscilla. Ruining a perfectly good story...” Putz.

Nate turns to the X-men. “Thank you for all your help. We owe you.” He reaches out to shake hands with each of them in turn. Logan ignores him, but the others accept the handshake, although warily.

“I’ll hold you to that,” Scott tells him.

“I’ll hold you to that,” Wade mimics when he’s not looking, but quietly enough that no-one hears. Well, except for Nate, who smiles in that you’re-not-going-to-get-me-to-laugh way of his.

Nate smiles. “Bodyslide by two.” And they’re gone.

\-----

Once Nate and Wade have left, Scott turns to Emma. “What exactly was that thought you ‘weren’t going to ask about’?”

“I don’t think you want to know,” she replies, her voice tinged with laughter.

“Pheromones, bub,” Logan growls. “You should be damn glad you don’t have my nose.”

Scott still looks confused.

“Just think about it for a while,” Beast tells him. “It’s rather obvious.”

Realisation dawns slowly. “Oh my God...”

\-----

Nate opens his eyes to the street outside a warehouse – the Young Avengers headquarters. At first it seems deserted, but their arrival seems to have provoked a response; sounds can be heard from inside. Nate glances over at Wade, still worrying about him, although Emma’s work seems to be holding up. He’s had his whole life to learn to cope with his powers; Wade has had only a few hours. Still, the merc seems fine.

“Y’know, this part of the story would be a lot better if the person writing it knew what the Young Avengers headquarters looks like,” Wade says. “When are we going to get back to the sex?”

Nate grins, and heads over to the door. It opens before he has time to knock. The teenager standing there is tall and muscular for his age, with several ear piercings. He scowls at them.

“What do you want?”

Before Nate can explain, another voice pipes up, this time coming from a slimmer boy who pokes his head around his friend. “Hey, you were on the TV weren’t you?” He grins. “You’re that Cable guy.”

“That’s right.” Nate nods. Behind him Wade is spinning a knife in his hand impatiently. It’s no wonder the bulky teen is wary. He’s sure Wade won’t hurt them though. They can’t be much older than fifteen... though at that age he had already been fighting the war for three long years. “We wanted to talk to Wiccan.”

“That’s me,” the smaller kid says, holding up his hand. “And this is Teddy, aka Hulkling. So, what can the Young Avengers help you with?”

“Are you sure we should trust them?” the other asks quietly, still tense.

“I assure you we don’t mean any harm,” Nate replies.

“Scouts honour,” Wade puts in, hand over heart. He sheathes the knife again, but Nate doesn’t need telepathy to know that it doesn’t make the teenagers feel any better.

“Fine,” Hulkling shrugs, clearly not happy about it, but stepping aside anyway. “I don’t like it, but fine.”

They step inside, not sure what to expect.

“So... why d’you need to talk to me?” Wiccan asks, leading them over to an area with seats. Hulkling leans against the wall, watching them. “I mean, most of the time people just come here to tell us that the stuff we do is too dangerous, and we should just go back to being regular kids until we’re older.” The stubborn expression on his face might have been funny if it wasn’t so earnest.

“We have a slight problem... involving magic,” Nate says, feeling a little bit embarrassed for no reason that he can put a finger on.

“Yup,” Wade tells them. “We’ve sort of swapped powers. Normally I would say that was pretty cool, but apparently it’s going to kill us, so, not cool.”

“So... you want me to help you work out how to swap your powers back?” Wiccan looks a little daunted. “Well, I’ll try, but I don’t know... I’ve never done anything like that before.”

Nate waits patiently while the teen closes his eyes, muttering softly under his breath. A soft blue glow seems to surround him, pulsing softly at the edges.

“Hey, you’ve got little blue writing in your speech bubbles!” Wade says happily. “It looks really funky next to my yellow ones!”

Wiccan blinks, opening his eyes. “Uh... what?”

“Ignore him,” Nate tells him.

”Well... basically it’s like this.” Wiccan seems lost for the right words for a couple of seconds. “I don’t really know how this happened, or exactly how to fix it, but the most I can get when I ask my powers how to do that is the feeling that you need to repeat something.”

“Repeat...what?”

Wiccan shrugs. “Whatever it was you were doing when your powers switched over.”

Nate spends a few seconds working this out, but Wade beats him too it, chuckling nastily. “Oh fuck, that’s hilarious!”

Nate feels his face heat. “Um...” He’s rarely lost for words, but now is one of those occasions.

Wade is still laughing. “Oh Nate, your _face_!!”

Wiccan looks from one to the other. “Uh... what were you doing?”

Wade stops laughing long enough to answer him. “Fucking.”

Nate would like nothing more at these point than to bury his head in his hands and die from embarrassment.

Wiccan’s eyes widen, and Hulkling chuckles. “Oh. Um.”

Wade is grinning wickedly under his mask. “So – excuse us while we go and... repeat ourselves.”

“I hate you Wade,” Nate mutters under his breath. Wade just smirks.

“Bodyslide by two!”


	3. Chapter 3

  
﻿

Wade doesn’t intend on wasting any time when they get back to Providence. Hell, he had wanted to do this for a long time before yesterday, and one night of rampant sex is not enough by any means to lessen the desire to touch Nate and kiss Nate and feel Nate’s cock in his ass... Mmm, good thoughts. Not that he’s like, really gay or anything, just... Nate is really, really sexy.

They reappear with the usual flash of light blue light, and mild expression of surprise from Wade, because really, he’s never going to get used to that. “Finally! Sex!” Wade says, pushing his mask up over the bridge of his nose. He grabs Nate by the collar of his shirt and drags him forward into a rough and slightly messy kiss. Mmm. Nice. Nate opens his mouth to let his tongue in, and Wade tastes him, something he’s pretty sure he’s not going to get tired of in a hurry. There’s that slight metallic tang that’s just sharp enough to send a shock through his mouth, like licking copper. Not that he goes around licking copper. Because that would be silly. Yes.

Nate pulls back with a slight smile. “Impatient?”

Wade rolls his eyes. “Ya think? Well maybe I need my powers back so I don’t _die of cancer_ , thankyouverymuch.”

“Of course. No other reason at _all_.” Nate looks smug, so Wade kisses him again. Stupid future-Jesus. If Bea Arthur ever showed up on his doorstep he would drop Priscilla in a second. One. Second. Really, he would.

“So, how d’you use this TK of yours then?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, though it probably isn’t terribly obvious under the mask.

“Hnn?” Nate is actually surprised. Yay! Score one for Wade. “Don’t you think that’s a little ambitious?”

“No.” He presses his mouth to Nate’s neck, tasting T.O. mesh, another thing he’s pretty sure he’ll never get tired of. Very yummy.

Nate groans, low in his throat. “I’m not sure how to explain it. It was always pretty... instinctual.” His breath hitches as Wade’s teeth bite into the metal.

“So...what, I just have to _think_ about touching you... or something?” Wade reckons if it was that easy he would have done it by mistake already.

“Well... yeah.”

“Hmm.” Wade thinks hard. He has a very good imagination. “Anything happening?”

Nate shakes his head, though he looks a little distracted, what with Wade’s hand down the front of his pants. Maybe too distracted. Wade pulls his hand out and thinks _harder_. There is... _something_ there. And then it clicks, and Nate jerks his hips up as Wade _feels_ himself mentally ghosting along the length of Nate’s cock, and yeah, that’s just plain _weird_. He smirks. Nate gasps, eyelids flickering, making his glowy eye strobe like some kind of crazy disco ball.

“I could so get used to this,” Wade says, grabbing Nate’s face with both hands and kissing him, teasing with his tongue, letting his mind use the TK to keep up the light ghosting of mental fingers that slide down to tease at Nate’s balls. Oh yeah. He is awesome. Pity he’s gonna have to lose this. Better than nasty motherfucking cancer though.

“Well,” Nate mutters into his mouth, “I’d never thought I would agree with you, but...”  
Wade decides this is far too coherent, even coming from control-freak G. I. Jesus. He’s had enough of Nate keeping his cool. If the TK can’t make him loose it, then what the hell use is it anyway? “Shh, Prissy,” he whispers, breaking apart from the kiss long enough to breath – ‘cos he doesn’t have that healing factor right now, can’t stay in it for as long as he usually does – before diving back into it, teeth worrying at Nate’s lip. Time for some multi-tasking. Well, he’s a quick learner.

Nate was right; it is almost instinctual. Once he worked out the ‘trigger’, or whatever the hell it was, things just fell into place, and now all he has to do is think about touching. It’s almost a feedback loop; like having far more than just one pair of hands, all of which can feel as well as his regular ones. He touches Nate everywhere he can think of.  
“You’ve so been holding back on me Nate!” he whines, threading fingers of his real hand through coarse military-cut hair, though it’s hard to tell real from TK. “How come you never used the TK on me before?”

Nate doesn’t answer straight away. Wade likes to think it’s because he’s just that good, but probably Prissy’s just thinking. “You only showed you had these kind of feelings for me,” his breath hitches as Wade continues his game of ‘distract Super-Jesus’. “ _yesterday_. That’s not really enough time...”

“It seems like waaaaaay longer.” Wade replies, starting to get bored with foreplay. “Sex time now?” he suggests, unsubtly.

“Will you let me use actual lube this time?” Nate asks, raising a know-it-all eyebrow.

Wade blows a raspberry at him. “Whatever. We can do fucking now, please? You heard the nubile Young Avenger! Repetition time!”

Nate gives something that’s halfway between a sigh and a laugh, and pulls away to fetch the lube.

“And use a condom too,” Wade pokes him in the side. “I’m sure I’ve got all sorts of nasty diseases.” Nate looks at him sceptically.

“Don’t you think it’s a bit late for that?”

“Maybe if you’d worn one the first time we wouldn’t be in this mess,” Wade says, just to be contrary.

Nate can’t hide a little grin. “So if I wear one now, who’s to say we’re going to fix it? Besides, _you_ jumped me in that alleyway.”

“Oh, you just want an excuse to ride me bareback.” He rolls his eyes at him, forgetting he’s still wearing his mask. He pulls it off and tosses it at Nate. “And I can’t help but notice we’re wearing _way_ too many clothes.”

Nate smirks. Wade narrows his eyes and mentally grabs the lube off him, simultaneously latching psychic hands onto his shirt and pulling, which has the welcome double-effect of pulling an unsuspecting Nate towards him, and tearing the material. Nate sighs. “I liked that shirt.”

“Oh come on,” Wade tells him, almost bouncing over, snatching the lube from where it’s floating in mid air, and pulling the tattered material down off Nate’s shoulders. There’s an awkward moment when the buttons get in the way and the shirt gets stuck around Nate’s biceps, but Wade impatiently rips at it mentally, and the buttons go flying. “I’ll more than make it up to you,” he says, fluttering his non-existent eyelashes in a hopefully sexy way. Maybe not so sexy, judging by Nate’ chuckle.

“Let me give you a hand with that,” Mr. Future Soldier says, helping Wade shuck his bodysuit.

“Yeah, yeah,” Wade says, and mimics Nate under his breath. “Smug putz.” He grabs Nate by the waistband of his jeans and pulls him in again, licking that tender spot just beneath his ear. He found that last night. Nate moans something that’s probably some kind of Askani curse. Wade rubs up against him, closing his eyes at the friction against the denim. His cock is leaking precum, so that’s probably another of Nate’s items of clothing that he’s messed up. Like he cares. “You’d better fuck me right now or...”

“Or what?” Nate asks, grabbing Wade by the waist to keep him in place, and rubbing his thumb all too lightly over the head of his cock. Wade groans and arches up into it. He needs Nate so fucking badly.

“Or...” He can’t think coherently. How the hell does Nate do it? It irritates him no end that Nate always has to _control_ everything, but right now, his brain is too fuzzy to decide whether to try and regain the initiative, or just let him do it. Go with the flow, because yes, it nags at him, but it’s worth it, isn’t it? He fumbles with Nate’s fly. “Bed. Now.” He glares up through half-lidded eyes. Shouldn’t let Nate think he’s going to do whatever the fuck Nate wants all the time. He’s no fucking pushover.

Nate nods, eyes dark with lust, and walks them backwards until Wade can feel the mattress nudging up against the back of his legs. Nate sucks and licks his way along Wade’s collarbone, tongue flicking over scar tissue and roughened flesh that has visibly worsened since this morning. Wade finally gets Nate’s fly open, and shoves his jeans down roughly so that he can step out of them. His rigid cock is tenting his boxers, dampening the fabric at the tip. Struck by a sudden idea, Wade imagines his mouth, warm and hot engulfing the head, using the TK to mimic his lips sliding down Nate’s length.

“Holy...!” Nate lets out a choked gasp, eyes widening, caught completely off guard. Wade smirks, and pulls Nate down on to the bed with him. They land heavily, and the bedsprings creak loudly. Wade doesn’t give Nate time to notice though, wrapping his legs around him and rubbing against him, cock to cock. Nate is breathing heavily, hot air huffing into the crook of his neck.

“Fuck me,” Wade growls, low and needy sounding even to his ears, burning with lust and want and impatience. Nate sits up, rocking back on his haunches to twist off the lid of the lube and slick up his fingers, pushing Wade’s leg up to his chest and thrusting in. Wade can’t help but shiver at the sudden chill of the cold lube and the fucking delicious stretch of Nate’s fingers in his ass. He moans, and tries to push further down, needing more. Nate presses a kiss to the thrown back arch of his throat and scissors his fingers, making him buck.

“Fuck, _Nate!_ ” Wade gasps as Nate pulls out. The head of Nate’s cock nudges his ass, and he’s so close to begging. Goddamit, but Super-Jesus is good at this. Best sex of his fucking _life_.

“You look good Wade,” Nate says, the edges of his voice ragged, almost breathless, and pushes in. Wade feels the burn of his muscles stretching, and it’s so good, so damn good. Nate leans in close, his hands planted either side of Wade’s head and captures his mouth in a rough kiss as he pulls out agonizingly slowly. He thrusts in again, not bothering to be gentle, and hits that happy-sweet spot inside him. Wade moans into Nate’s mouth, running his hands over Nate’s sides, needing to _touch_. He’s using the TK as well, getting as much contact as possible. Nate’s skin is hot and dry, the TO metal of his arm and left side slightly cooler, but still warmer than dead metal would be. Wade finds himself getting lost in the slick burn and aching pleasure of Nate’s cock inside him, the wet heat of his mouth, all the fucking sensations and _ecstasy_. Nate is _big_ and he can feel it, the thick length filling him just right, and... yeah, this is perfect, right here and now in the moment... He realises he’s talking out loud, must be babbling. That would be like him, but he’s pretty sure Nate doesn’t mind. Unhhh... Nate is hitting that happy-fun-yay spot inside him with every stroke now, and he can feel his orgasm building just behind his balls. He tightens the grip of his legs around Nate, feeling Nate’s muscles bunching as he moves, pounding his ass and sending waves of pleasure through him. He’s so hard he hurts, and fuck, he’s going to come just from being fucked, not even needing a hand on his cock. Fuck! Oh fuck! His back arches and he comes, muscles tightening, spilling himself over his belly. Through the immediate euphoric haze, he feels Nate come too, biting down hard on his lip and making a few last strokes before he’s spent. He rests there for a few moments, gathering himself before pulling out, raising his head to look down at Wade, a sated smile on his lips.

“D’you think it worked?” Wade asks sleepily, resisting the urge to nuzzle into Nate’s side. He’s not the cuddling type, really. He’s a mercenary, not a teddy bear.

Nate blinks at him slowly. “I don’t know.”

Wade can’t actually spare the brain power to worry about it. He stretches out, and pushes Nate off him. “Mmmf. Sleep now.”

Nate chuckles softly, but doesn’t argue. “And if it hasn’t changed by tomorrow morning?”

“Well,” Wade says, keeping a straight face. “We’ll just have to try again, eh Priscilla?”


End file.
